The next Saturday evening, Martin and Abby played a computer game in their open-plan kitchen-diner. The remains of their evening meal littered the worktops. After a while Martin stopped playing, seeming ill-at-ease.
"What"s up, babe?" Abby asked in concern. "You sickening for something? You"ve not been yourself all week."
He sighed. "I"ve agreed to go over to Ray"s tonight. Got to look at a week"s worth of surveillance."
"I"ll ring him and tell him you don"t feel well," she suggested, "then we can carry on with the game."
"I don"t really want to do that either," he said wearily.
"You must be sickening for something!"
mustHe’d been looking forward to seeing the footage all week, but now, as the hour drew nearer, he’d started to have doubts. What kind of world was he getting into? What
